Pact with the Morning Star
by Cehhfasat
Summary: A shady character arrives in a small, middle eastern town with an unknown purpose. He quickly accomplishes what he came for, but a few unforeseen complications arise. Everything he does, he does for a reason. But what is it he is trying to accomplish?
1. Chapter 1

This is another completely original story. Although it was inspired by a few books, the idea, setting and characters all came out of my cranium. Additionally, this is a work of _fiction_. Names, characters, and incidents either are the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ENJOY!

* * *

**Egypt**

**1898**

Cehhfasat received the call to go to Keph, a small desert village about a week out of Cairo. It took him quite a distance out of his way, but he had learned long ago not to resist that incessant itching at the back of his mind. It was only an old man, after all, and Cehhfasat could take care of him and be on his way within a day. He hadn't expected to have any complications.

But he certainly had expected to find the village easier. It took him another day of wandering in the dry hills of Sinai just to find this small clump of huts on the river's edge that had been deemed a village. It had given Cehhfasat a great deal of surprise that his reliable sense was so vague this time. After finding the village, though, Cehhfasat soon forgot the strangeness of his tracking sense and focused on finding the old man.

It wasn't much of a village. The twenty or so huts that had been scraped together on the river's edge were protected on three sides by hills, on which sheep and cattle were grazing on small desert shrubs and grasses. It seemed that this year's lack of water was taking its toll on the villagers. Many of the animals being raised were dead from dehydration or starvation. The river was particularly low, and the entire place gave an aura of depression and hopelessness.

Cehhfasat rode into the village several hours past midday. He searched the small village area for a well, but was unable to find one. As he steered his horse up the single road, the people stared at him in wonder. Old women, whose skins were dark and scarred from the biting wind, stared at him with suspicion from the doorways of their huts. Small children stopped their games and stared as Cehhfasat passed. A young woman who held a baby in her arms looked at Cehhfasat with open fear, after she spotted the rifle hanging casually across Cehhfasat's back. Likely, these villagers had never seen an outsider in their entire lives. This area wasn't exactly the center of trade.

After riding through the village and growing tired of the wary looks, Cehhfasat took his horse to the river's edge and let it drink. It would have been very inconvenient for his horse to die in this godforsaken hamlet. Cehhfasat himself didn't bend down to drink from the water, for he wasn't worried about himself. He had spent four months in the desert, with neither food nor water, tracking bandits once. Dehydration and starvation did not worry him at all. If his horse died, however, he would have to either steal another or he would have a long, long walk ahead of him.

After the black horse had drunk its full, Cehhfasat led it back to the village and tied it to a fence behind a house. Nobody was watching him this time, so he unloaded a few daggers from his saddlebags. He put one up each sleeve and another in each boot. A larger knife he concealed expertly on his belt. He took off the saddlebags and walked a few meters away from the hut. Here, he dropped the saddlebags and his rifle to the ground and then covered them with sand.

He did not like the smallness of this village. He had already drawn far too much attention to himself, and now everyone in the village would be suspicious of his every action. It was much more preferable to be anonymous, when his every action wouldn't be watched, but no such luxury was going to be the case here. Cehhfasat would much rather be called to a great city such as Cairo, or Jerusalem, or even as far as Damascus.

But _he_ had called Cehhfasat here, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Except kill this old man and be on his way. The sooner this was over the better. He would strike tonight.

* * *

No moon rose over Keph this night. No clouds were in the sky either. Across the vast expanse of sky, were only the many white dots of light. The stars twinkled and created a tapestry in the darkness out here, in the desert, more than they ever could in a great city like Cairo. The hustle and commotion of such a place only intensified after the sun went down, unlike this village. Here, all was calm and still. A slight breeze was blowing in from the river.

The people had brought in their animals and children for the nights, and not a fire was lit anywhere in the community. They all rested safely and securely in their straw beds. There was nobody walking about, and not a soul was even outside. Except for Cehhfasat, who stalked carefully from shadow to shadow along the sides of houses.

He had scouted out the village a bit during the day, but he needn't have. The community was small enough that, had he needed to, he could have searched every one of the houses for his target. But he was being led by his excellent sensitivity to the position of his target, as was granted by his master so that he could accomplish these missions.

There was a hut directly in front of Cehhfasat. Cehhfasat knew that the old man was inside. He could sense it.

Cehhfasat moved to the window on the side of the house and looked in. A smile spread across his dark face at what he saw. Directly underneath the window was a bed, and lying in that bed was the old man, who was snoring loudly. A quick look around told Cehhfasat that still nobody was about in the village. Other than the man, the room was empty and bare. A piece of cloth was hung in the doorway of the room, and Cehhfasat heard no movement on the other side. This was going to be easy.

With careful precision that had taken him centuries to master, Cehhfasat climbed onto the windowsill and leaped over the sleeping man and landed in the room with a roll, all without making a sound. The long knife that had just a second ago been carefully concealed on his belt was now in his hand. Still nothing in the house made a sound.

A gust of wind blew in the window, and ruffled the cloth in the doorway. The old man sniffed and rolled around a bit in his sleep. The room appeared empty. Shadows covered every corner of the room. The shadows shifted. A six-foot tall shadow now stood over the sleeping man. A burst of movement. The man opened his eyes for a moment, but he was already dead. A red line had been drawn across his exposed neck. A faint bubbling sound issued forth where the blood came rushing from the dead man's neck. Another gust of wind blew into the room, which was already empty.

* * *

Lira woke with a start. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then rolled onto her side. She had been having a very nice dream, which she did not want to awake from so soon. She had been in a city -- yes a _real_ city, with large buildings and many streets, and lots of people. She had been in the market, and had been enjoying the atmosphere of the place. So many people, all in one place, shouting out about their products, or glancing casually at the goods for sale, and so many strange things to buy! Lira sighed.

The wind came blowing through the window and made Lira pull her worn blanket around herself more tightly. The cloth in the doorway that led to her grandfather's tiny room danced crazily in the wind. It moved about in a strange and hypnotizing dance that had Lira staring at it for several minutes. After she got tired of watching it she rolled back onto her back and looked back up at the ceiling.

A half a second later Lira looked back in the direction of her grandfather's room. She had seen a movement in there, if only for a brief moment. Peering into the gloom when the cloth moved out of the way from the wind, Lira saw only the dark shape that was her grandfather sleeping peacefully in his sleep. She stared a moment into the room, but didn't see anything else. Perhaps she hadn't seen anything at all? But she _knew_ she had.

After a brief mental battle, Lira stood up and walked slowly to the doorway. She brushed aside the cloth and stepped in. She was about to turn around and go back to bed, when something struck her. Grandfather always snored. She didn't hear any snoring, didn't hear anything at all. The wind blowing through the window made the only sound in the room. A sinking feeling fluttered down into Lira's stomach. She stared a moment, then rushed to her grandfather's bedside.

Now that she was kneeling next to him, Lira could see the red line across his neck, and the pool of blood quickly forming. A look of fear was frozen on his face.

Staring down at him, Lira did not feel grief. She did not feel any remorse, or anger. She did not feel much of anything, other than shock and curiosity. Who had done this? Lira looked around the room in vain, looking for a hidden killer hiding in the dark corner, but the room was empty. She looked out the window, but she couldn't see anyone out there either.

Again she knelt down at the side of her dead grandfather. The smell of the blood struck her now, as it hadn't a moment before. It smelled of death. Lira scrunched up her nose, but did not move from the spot. She stared over the body with disgust, and wondered again who had done such a thing.

Her mind moved quickly over the people in the village. Certainly many of them wanted this man dead, but Lira had never thought of any of them as murderers. She hadn't even heard or seen anything, and nobody that she knew could commit an act so stealthily.

Then she remembered the strange, dark man that had ridden into the village that day. He had had a rifle slung across his back, and looked to be a dangerous sort of man. Likely he had all sorts of weapons with him and had been trained to commit murder in the most elite and efficient ways. That was it, that man must have killed grandfather. Without thinking, Lira ran out of the house and into the night.

* * *

Lira found the man near an empty sheep pen behind a house. He was standing next to a great, powerful looking black horse, loading up his saddlebags. He looked as though he was ready to leave this very night, though he had only come to this village the day before. Staring around the corner at him, Lira wondered why this man had made such a journey if he only meant to kill her grandfather and be on his way. Lira had never thought of her grandfather as a very important person, certainly nobody who would have assassins after him. A family feud maybe? Then again, this man looked a whole generation younger than her grandfather and had never been seen here before. Perhaps Lira's grandfather had been more than a simple farmer. That didn't seem likely at all. It just seemed like a waste of this man's time to make the journey out here just to kill an insignificant old farmer.

Of coarse, now that Lira thought about it, she didn't care that her grandfather was dead – as long as she could be away from him. She would always hate him. She just couldn't bring herself to ever forgive the beastly old man. The man who had beaten her, abused her, and – she shuddered and pushed such thoughts from her head. As far as she was concerned, this man was her savior. She could now escape both that monster that had called himself her grandfather and this small village that had held her all her life.

The thought of this man being her savior startled her. He was an assassin, or at least a very efficient and highly trained murder, and she had to remember that. She felt a little guilty for being happy that her grandfather was dead. After all, it was he who had taken her in after her parents had died, and he had raised her from infancy and she was still alive because of him. But again the terrible episodes came rushing back to Lira's mind and she hated her grandfather and was glad he was dead. This killer had saved her.

But why had he done it? He hadn't done it to save her. He probably didn't even know she existed. Lira watched the man loading his gear for a moment and built up her courage. He was a killer. He was a killer. He was good killer. He was a _very_ good killer. At last her curiosity outweighed her fear. Lira walked up to the man cautiously, eyeing the man's hands, which might hold a knife at any moment. He did not turn to look at her or acknowledge her presence in any way. He nearly continued what he had been doing.

A minute passed and the man still didn't say anything. Lira realized that the man didn't intend to say anything, so she tried to think of something to say to him. She hadn't wanted to start the conversation, but after a moment's hesitation she spoke up. "Why did you do it?" The man still pretended she wasn't there. Lira became a little annoyed but waited for the man to answer. She really wanted the answer to her question, for nothing more than to appease her curiosity.

The man didn't speak.

"I didn't tell anyone. Nobody even knows yet, but me," Lira put in quickly.

A minute passed and the man still hadn't said anything, hadn't looked at Lira. Lira was just turning to leave when he spoke. "Why did I do what?"

A moment of uncertainty caught Lira. Maybe this man hadn't done it after all. But the thought only lasted a moment. Nobody else could have possibly done it. And nobody else was out tonight. This man had to have killed her grandfather.

Lira knew that this man knew what she was talking about. It looked as though it wouldn't be very easy talking to this man. Lira sighed. He just wasn't in a talkative mood.

"You know very well what it is I'm talking about," Lira insisted. The next second, she found the man staring down at her, looking into her eyes for the first time. She tried to match his stare, and for a time the two of them merely stared each other down. It was Lira who broke the eye lock and backed down. She looked down at the sand.

There was something strange about this man's eyes that made it almost painful to look at them for too long. They seemed to be a normal pair of eyes, with white around the edges, a brown ring, and a black pupil in the center. But when Lira had looked into his eyes she felt like she was going to get swallowed up in them. They seemed deeper than normal eyes looked. There was something there that wasn't supposed to be. It was as if there were _two_ people looking at her from behind those eyes. And yet the eyes seemed devoid of life. There was no sparkle in the eyes, just dull black and brown and white.

Lira's ears became hot and a bead of sweat rolled down her face. That wasn't right. It was freezing out here. She dared to look up again and was relieved to see that the man wasn't looking back, but had gone back to his packing.

"I had to," the man replied at last, not sounding at all apologetic. He sounded as though he was simply stating a fact – as easy as if he had said, "It is dark out here." It did not seem right to Lira to confess that you killed someone in such an easy way.

She frowned. "You had to?" she repeated slowly.

"My master required that his life be ended."

"You're an assassin then!" The sentence burst from Lira's mouth. She wished she hadn't said it. She could not believe she was having this conversation at all. Not only were they talking openly about murder, but Lira had just accused this man of being an assassin! She took a half step back and bit her lower lip anxiously. Oh how she wished she hadn't come up to talk to this man in the first place. She wished she were still in bed, happily dreaming about far off places. She expected the man to turn on her for what she had said.

The man finished what he had been doing and turned to face Lira. He stared down at her with those strange eyes of his. _Not those eyes again!_ Lira quickly looked down at the ground, trying to avoid the man's stare.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere?" asked the man in annoyance.

Fear and curiosity were having a battle in Lira's head. She was deathly afraid of what this man might do to her if she pressed the subject any further. He might figure that she would cause too much trouble and would kill her as easily as he had killed her grandfather. Everyone would wake up in the morning to find grandfather dead in his bed, and Lira dead behind Yusif's house. The man would already be long gone and there would be nothing they could do. And yet, Lira simply couldn't go back to the empty house where her dead grandfather lay. There was nothing there except questions. There was nothing in this entire place for her! She couldn't stay here now, when all that had been keeping her here before was her grandfather. What would she do if she left and went home? Regret would always be with her for not leaving when she had the chance.

A few seconds later, curiosity won out again and Lira made up her mind. "No, not really. I mean, my grandfather is dead and he was my only family left," she replied, looking down at the sand. She looked up a second later to see him staring at her curiously. "And I don't care that you killed him! Really, I'm not angry or anything. He was a wicked old man and I'm glad he's dead."

"Why are you telling me this?" the man asked with a look of amusement on his face.

Why _was _she telling him this? He didn't seem to care about anything she was saying at all. She had to try anyway. "I'm tired of this tiny little village. I want to get out of here."

The man only stared at her. He didn't seem to catch what she was leading up to, or if he did then he didn't comment.

A moment's hesitation and Lira opened her mouth to speak. She closed it abruptly and looked down at the sand again. "Can I come with you, wherever you're going?" She didn't dare look up and meet the man's eyes. Said out loud, it sounded like a ridiculous question. When he didn't answer, though, she looked up to find him climbing onto his horse.

"No," he said and began trotting away, off to the west.

Lira watched him go for a minute, then when a cold gust of wind blew at her she shivered and started walking slowly back to her house.

* * *

Like it? It might be while before I get the next chapter out, but tell me what you think anyway. All reviews are very much appreciated!

- Cehhfasat


	2. Chapter 2

The sun rose over the east as it had done every day since the beginning of time. It started with a soft glow of oranges and yellows across the eastern sky, casting out the darkness with a swift hand. In a matter of minutes, the dark tapestry above Cehhfasat's head was ripped down and replaced with a furnace of bright colors. The cold air of the nighttime was replaced by hot breath on his skin. The cool breeze was substituted for a hot, driving wind. It carried sand among its arms, which wrapped around the solitary rider and pummeled him ferociously.

The hills of Sinai seemed to go on until they dropped off into space. Neither a patch of green, nor a flash of sun reflecting off a body of water could be seen anywhere.

But there was something on the horizon. It moved sluggishly in the morning winds. It lifted itself from one foot to another, and guarded its face against the stinging wind. It was dressed in rags and had neither a horse nor camel. A small bundle of supplies was roped to its back. Cehhfasat had spotted it even before the sun rose. It was slowly following him from the east.

A groan had left his mouth when he saw the girl. He did not stop to let her catch up to him, though. While she trudged doggedly on behind him, only propelled forward by the strength of her two feet, Cehhfasat rested casually on the back of his powerful horse and continued traveling west.

As the day dragged on, he expected to look back and see her turning back. He expected to at least see her collapsed upon the sand. Yet she didn't turn back and she didn't collapse. She continued to fight off the heat of the day and the fatigue she must be feeling, and she followed Cehhfasat across the desert.

She wasn't within earshot, otherwise Cehhfasat would have told her to turn back himself.

Toward the end of the first day, her presence on his far rear was beginning to annoy him. She was going to kill herself out here. When she finally did run out of water, and it couldn't be long now, she would slowly dehydrate. She would be unable to make it back to that pitiful village and would be unable to find water by herself out here.

Why did she want to come with him anyway? She knew that he had killed that man, who had apparently been her grandfather. Why did she want to take up company with a killer? Especially the killer of her only family. She must be a bigger fool than he at first thought.

But Cehhfasat didn't really want to know the answer to his question. He didn't intend to let her follow him into Cairo. It would not be very pleasant at all to have a teenage girl tagging along with him as he went about his business. But that wasn't something he had to worry about, because it looked like she would be dying soon anyway.

A smirk spread across Cehhfasat's face as he imagined the foolish girl lying dead on the sand. Her body would be just a husk. All the water would have been gone by that point. A few vultures pecked delightedly at her stomach. There wouldn't even be anything left after a day or two. Maybe some bones. But those would get buried in the sand.

After a moment's thought, Cehhfasat decided that the girl shouldn't die in vain.

He decided then that if she made it to his camp that night he would tell her to go back, so that she would at least die facing east – toward her home – instead of west. Maybe he'd have to kill her himself.

Despite all the killings he'd performed over the centuries in service to his master, Cehhfasat didn't like the idea of having to kill this girl himself. She reminded him too much of Teyda. It was her small face and curious eyes, always darting about, set above the mouth that could break into a smile any second.

Cehhfasat coughed, and scratched the back of his neck. It was better not to think about such things. After all, it had been over three hundred years. He had work to do. Thinking of long past events would get him nowhere now. So instead of looking up at the sky and remembering the sky on that awful night, Cehhfasat pulled his cowl lower over his eyes and bent over his horse. With rough hands he urged the horse a little faster and didn't look up again until the sun was setting.

The sunset was much like the sunrise. The lights of the sky held on as long as they could, gripping the fringes of the horizon with red fingers, but were as last cast out by the growing darkness. In a few minutes the blackness of space covered the Earth, and tiny puncture wholes showed where stars brilliantly shined.

* * *

His camp was set at the base of a low cliff. A fire burned and cracked, sending up showers of fire, and a single figure was sitting next to it. The horse stood awkwardly off to the side and stared off into the darkness. It looked like a sentinel, guarding the rider from intruders. It saw Lira creeping up along the cliff and whinnied a warning to the shape at the edge of the fire.

Lira froze and stared at the man, who didn't move at all. He merely sat motionlessly at the fire's edge.

Her mouth was dry and her skin burned. She looked around for water. A small spring glowed in the soft moonlight just on the other side of the fire, nestled into the side of the cliff. If she moved very quietly, and took care not to go too fast, she might be able to make it.

Before she started toward it, she looked to her left, at the motionless man, and then began inching her way along the cliff wall. When she was about halfway to the spring, she accidentally kicked a rock. It bounced forward a few inches, making the slightest of noises, then came to a rest. Lira winced, and looked back over to the fire.

The man still didn't look in her direction. The horse watched her curiously, not moving from its spot or alerting the man.

After a moment without a sound, except for the crackling of the fire, Lira continued. In a few minutes she had made it to the small spring and with one look back, bent down to drink.

A cold piece of metal pressed against her neck. Lira froze and said a silent prayer to Allah. Her heart started pounding faster. It felt like it would burst from her chest. Next was the cold sweat. She swallowed hard and slowly straightened her back. When she was standing up straight, the cold blade's edge at her throat pressed a little harder. A sharp pain. She felt something begin to run down her neck. It was warm, and the smell—

Oh, Allah. It was blood. _Her _blood.

Another silent prayer.

Now the tears started. At first it was just one lonely scout that ripped down her face, but it led the way for a whole stream of tears. They wouldn't stop. As much as Lira commanded them to stop, they wouldn't listen. If she was going to die here, she wouldn't die crying. But she _was _crying now.

Lira didn't say anything; didn't beg for her life or mercy.

She wished she hadn't come out here. _She was going to die_. If only she had just stayed in the safety of her village. _She was going to die_. A whole day of walking in the endless desert, and now she was standing at the edge of a blade. _She was going to die._ She didn't want to die. She had so much more to do, to see. _She was going to die._ An image of her dead grandfather flicked through her head.

_She was going to die._

It took her a moment to realize the blade had been removed from her neck. When she did, though, the tears abruptly stopped. She swallowed and took a few deep breaths, testing to make sure she could still carry air to her lungs. She rubbed her neck and her hand came away red. But she was alive.

"Turn around," said a deep voice behind her. She did.

Sure enough, it was the strange dark man who had killed her grandfather. He must be devilishly quick to have moved from the fire that fast. Lira's eyes darted over to the fire. She was surprised to see the shape of a man still sitting next to it.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Another swallow and she tried again. "How…?"

The man looked her in the face, sighed, and turned. He walked to the edge of the fire and sat down. Lira stared at him a moment. Now that the adrenaline had worn off a little, her awful thirst returned. She turned back to the spring.

After a long, satisfying drink, she stood up and walked slowly to the edge of the fire. When she got close enough to see clearly, she saw that the "man" next to the fire was actually just a rock with a cloak thrown over it and a few saddle bags loaded inside it. Clever. That meant that the man had been expecting her. She felt even more foolish.

Turning slightly toward the man, she began to speak tentatively.

* * *

Cehhfasat now sat at the edge of the fire and listened to the girl's question. When it reached his ears he thought about it for a few minutes, wondering how to answer her.

"Who are you?"

The fire cracked. The wind had settled down for the moment. The moon was setting. Dim light was strewn throughout the campsite. The horse shifted uncomfortably, and stomped its feet. The girl, still standing across the fire from him, stared at Cehhfasat until he answered. At last he did.

"If you're wondering as to my name, that's an easy enough question. Cehhfasat."

He knew that's not what she meant. She had meant to ask something else, like what and why and how.

The girl sighed and sat on the cold sand.

"I'm Lira."

Cehhfasat nodded slowly but did not respond. So he knew her name now. It didn't do him any good.

Across the fire, Lira was rubbing her neck and inspecting the blood. She looked up a minute later and stared into Cehhfasat's eyes.

"You cut me," reminded Lira.

Cehhfasat shrugged. So he had.

"You were intruding in my camp," pointed out Cehhfasat.

"I was going to die of thirst! Your camp had the only spring that I could find!"

Cehhfasat smiled and leaned forward, staring mercilessly at the girl across the fire. "You didn't have to follow me."

"If I could've found water away from you, believe me, I would have gone there instead!"

No she wouldn't have. Something was drawing this girl to Cehhfasat. His sensitivity gave him an odd feeling about this girl. Maybe there was the same sensitivity at the back of her mind that Cehhfasat also had. His was drawing him to her. She was likely being led by that same feeling, unable to resist. She wouldn't even know why she had abandoned everything and come out into the desert after him. She would think it was her own free will.

"Tell me girl," began Cehhfasat, leaning back again and looking up at the stars, "have you ever had any experiences with demons?"

The girl was surprised. "Demons? What?"

Cehhfasat nodded. "_Aksimaat_"

"No," Lira replied uncertainly.

"Hmm." That was interesting. Maybe she had just come out here by her own free will after all. Stupid girl. "You didn't have to follow me into the desert at all, you know."

"Imagine you live in that village all your life, then just stay there when your one chance to leave comes!" She was getting annoyed. Perhaps she had figured out that Cehhfasat didn't mean to let her come along.

"You think that I'm your chance to have a new life?"

Lira paused. "Well…"

"What is it, girl? Why are you out here?"

Her eyes flared for a moment, then she seemed to calm considerably down. "There's something…"

Ah, so she did feel something. Just when Cehhfasat was beginning to grow tired of this girl. Now she could prove very useful indeed. He continued to stare at her as she talked.

"Something… compelling me to leave that village."

"Something like the uncontrollable desire to take up company with _assassins_?" He asked, spitting the word 'assassin' at her.

"No!" Her look of hostility had returned.

"Or are you just stupid, girl? Coming out here in the desert chasing after the man who killed your only family left!" He wanted her to admit the feeling. Admit that there was something in her mind drawing her to him.

"No…"

"Answer me this one question, girl, before I send you walking back to that godforsaken village alone. Is there something at the back of your mind leading you to me?"

Cehhfasat probed her eyes with his own. She looked first at him, then at the sand, then at the sky. She shifted uncomfortably on the sand, and thought for a moment. When she spoke it was very quiet, and Cehhfasat had to strain his ears a little to hear her.

"Yes."

"And you say that you've never had any experience with _Aksimaat_?" The stare continued.

Lira was very unsettled at this point. "None," she whimpered softly.

Cehhfasat sighed and fell onto his back, looking up at the stars. Interesting. Maybe he wouldn't send her crawling back across the desert alone after all. Perhaps he should just take her along with him for a while. Maybe that's what _he _had wanted to happen when heordered Cehhfasat to kill Lira's grandfather.

The sound of Lira's voice drifted over the fire and shook Cehhfasat from his pondering. "What happens to me now?"

That seemed like that was as close as the girl would get to begging for mercy.

"We're going to Cairo. Be ready to travel at dawn."

* * *

Lira didn't get to sleep for a long time. Her neck gave her some discomfort, but that was not the reason her dreams would not take her away. It was what Cehhfasat had said.

It was true, now that she thought hard enough about it, that she could feel a slight aching in the back of her mind that drew her to this man. It was not an aching of lust. It was as if she simply _had_ to be around this man. She did not have any other options.

At first, she didn't know how to feel about that. If all she had done in the past day had just been a reaction to this feeling, then she hadn't really made any decisions at all. It was all just instinct. Was she just a servant of this ache, and did she have any freedom at all? Perhaps not.

The thought scared her. Maybe she was being controlled, and didn't realize it. Maybe she only thought that every decision she made was made by her own free will.

Cehhfasat _had_ mentioned demons. Were demons controlling her?

Or maybe this was all just an act of destiny. Allah had destined her to find and follow this man.

The feeling could even just be a deep need to be away from her village. She knew that this man was the only one capable of taking her away and so she had followed him. It was her decision.

Yes, she thought, this was my decision.

And with that last thought, she turned over and went to sleep.

* * *

And there you have it! The second installment of Pact with the Morning Star. Hope you enjoyed it. If you did (and even if you didn't) make sure to submit a review! Stay tuned, more to come.

-Cehhfasat


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